


crimson & clover

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, References to Illness, Trans Fero, Trans Male Character, various other background pairings briefly mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 19:18:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18394712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: Fero puts his carpentry skills to good use. Samol passes on some musical knowledge. A greenhouse comes back to life, slowly.





	crimson & clover

**Author's Note:**

> title from 'crimson and clover' by tommy james and the shondells (although honestly every cover of this is basically Great)
> 
> thanks to maddie, for betaing and for making jokes with me in the side comments

  
  


Fero pulled up to the house slowly, comparing the shining brass number on the stone pillars either side of the driveway to the address Hella had texted him. This was the place, but Hadrian was nowhere to been seen. He huffed a breath and got out of the car, leaning on the side for a moment before pushing off it to pace. Hadrian was  _ supposed _ to be outside waiting for him, that’s what Hella had said. Fero was not very good at being the one doing the waiting.

 

He’d only done a few lengths of the car before he spotted a man, sitting on the ornate garden chair under a tree in the front garden, watching him with an amused expression.

 

Fero stopped, toes curling inside his shoes. “Uh. Hey, is this Samot and Samothes’ house?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Okay, cool,” said Fero. He tapped his phone against his palm, looking up at the closed front door. “Are they… they’re  _ here _ , right?”

 

“They should be,” said the man, “although if I’d known they were going to have a  _ second  _ visitor, I would have come another time.”

 

“What-” Fero made a face. “Nah. I’m here to pick up Hadrian. Hella said he’d be out the front.”

 

“I see.”

 

“She normally picks him up,” said Fero, more to fill the air than anything, “but she’s on some cruise with her girlfriends, and she said I “owe her one”, which is kind of debatable because  _ I’d  _ say we’re even, but she’s okay, so I don’t mind doing her a favour, y’know?”

 

The man nodded, still looking amused.

 

Fero bounced on the balls of his feet, letting out an annoyed huff of breath. “He’s  _ supposed _ to be waiting out the front you know. Hella said so.”

 

The man hummed in agreement, looking towards the door. “I wouldn’t mind him getting a move on either. I’m supposed to be taking my sons for lunch, not dinner. At this rate we’re not going to have time to even get a start on redoing the back deck at all.” He let out a sigh. “Not that I expect those two to drop their whole lives to help, but it does need doing…”

 

Fero switched his focus from the still-closed door to the man. “What’s wrong with your decking?”

 

“It’s old,” said the man, waving a hand, “needs varnishing. Or more likely needs to be replaced outright, but I ain’t got the time to do that.”

 

“I could do that,” said Fero, “probably. I mean, I’d need to see the deck to  _ know _ , but I could probably do that.”

 

The man fixed him with a calculating look. “Hmm. You in business?”

 

“Nah,” said Fero, “I’m just great at that stuff.”

 

The man laughed. “Well alright. You got a card?”

 

“I could put my number in your phone,” said Fero, “that’s like a card.”

 

The man considered him for a moment. “Huh. Well. Okay.”

 

Fero leant over the low fence, reciting his number as the man slowly put it into an well-preserved looking flip phone. Now that he was closer, he could see the man better - he was older, dressed in well-made, comfortably worn-in clothes, his hair tied back neatly, a contrast to Fero’s hand-combed-in-the-car-on-the-way-there bedhead and borrowed-from-Lem poetry club ‘07 t-shirt. If the man noticed the difference, he didn’t show it, nodding to Fero before glancing expectantly back at the door. Fero guessed he wasn’t a big fan of waiting either.

 

He bounced on the balls of his feet again, thinking. “I guess I could text him but he’s  _ terrible _ at checking his phone.” He paused, his eyes sliding back to his car. “Although I might have something better.”

 

The man looked back at him. “Better?”

 

“Yeah,” said Fero, and pulled himself through the open car window to lean on the car horn.

 

His car might have been old, but there was nothing wrong with the noise level of the horn. Fero kept leaning on it until the front door opened. A stylish blonde man frowned out of the doorway before leaning back inside to speak to someone. Fero leant on the horn again.

 

Hadrian barreled out of the door, his shirt half-buttoned over his undershirt, his jacket balled under one arm. “Fero!”

 

Fero heard the man on the bench laugh, a loud, bright sound. He grinned.

 

“Finally!” said Fero, “You’re holding up my whole day! And this guy’s whole day!” He added, gesturing to the man on the bench.

 

“Who-” Hadrian stumbled over his own feet a little, holding the jacket over his chest. “Ah. Hello, Samol, sir, I was… Good morning?”

 

“Hello Hadrian,” said Samol, standing up slowly.

 

“Are you… here to see Samot and Samothes?” said Hadrian. He winced.

 

“Yes,” said Samol, sounding amused, “I am. Although I was starting to think they would never emerge for lunch until your friend here called you.”

 

“You’re welcome!” said Fero brightly.

 

Hadrian glared at him, making a  _ cut it out _ gesture, which Fero ignored in favour of focusing on Samol’s grin. Samol grinned back.

 

“Right! Come on!” said Fero, waving his arms for emphasis, “I don’t have all day!”

 

Hadrian ducked into the car, fussing around as he tried to put the seat back far enough to accommodate his leg room. Fero rolled his eyes, shutting the door behind Hadrian before he looked back at Samol.

 

“So, uh. Cool to meet you,” said Fero. He paused. “I was being serious, about the decking. I can totally do that, if you want.”

 

Samol nodded. Fero, at a loss of what to do, nodded back before he got into the car.

 

“I can’t believe you just did that,” said Hadrian.

 

Fero let out a breath. “Me either.”

 

They drove a few minutes in silence towards Hadrian’s house.

 

“Wait, I meant about the horn,” said Hadrian. “What are  _ you _ talking about?”

 

“What am I talking about with what?” said Fero.

 

“I don’t believe that you can’t believe that you’d honk the horn like that,” said Hadrian.

 

Fero made a face. “Is that a riddle?”

 

“It’s not a riddle,” said Hadrian. Fero could feel Hadrian’s gaze on him. “It’s just a question.”

 

“Pretty complicated question from someone whose button’s aren’t done up properly.”

 

Hadrian made a frustrated noise and slumped down in his seat, fiddling with his shirt buttons again.

 

Fero half-forgot about it, really, until Samol texted him his address that night.

 

_ As long as the offer was a serious one _ , Samol added.

 

_ yeah of course!!!!! I’m a very serious guy, in case you couldn’t tell _ , Fero typed. He hesitated, deleting a few exclamation marks before he hit send.

 

“What are you grinning at?” said Lem, leaning over to peer at his phone.

 

“Nothing,” said Fero quickly, “bird memes.”

  
  
  


Samol’s house was very like Samot and Samothes’ house - a large, grand-looking building on a street with other large, grand-looking buildings - but an older version, a little more worn by the elements. Samol led him through the house to the back decking. Fero hummed over it for a few minutes, getting a feel for it, peering closely at the remains of the peeling varnish and old nails.

 

“Well, the good news is that you’re right, I guess?” said Fero, “The bad new is that since you’re right, you probably  _ would _ be better off replacing the whole thing, which probably’ll take me longer than like, today to do.”

 

“But you could do it?”

 

“Of course!” said Fero, “It’s easy! Well, for  _ me  _ it’s easy.”

 

Samol huffed a laugh. “Well alright. Let me know what you need.”

 

“Sure,” said Fero, “but first I’m kind of going to have to take it apart, so you’re not going to have a back deck today.”

 

“I don’t really use it,” said Samol with a shrug.

 

It took Fero most of the day to break apart the deck, which was fine because it was extremely fun to do, like putting a puzzle together in reverse to take it apart without destroying the structural support underneath. Also fun was Samol, who leant against the back door now and then to ask Fero questions and also, amazingly, to offer Fero lunch.

 

“This is,” said Fero, his mouth full of food, “the best sandwich I’ve ever had in my  _ life _ , and I don’t even normally care about food that much!”

 

“It’s just a sandwich,” said Samol.

 

“It’s an  _ incredible _ sandwich,” said Fero.

 

“If you think that’s good you should try something I actually cooked.”

 

“Okay,” said Fero, “I mean, I don’t know how it could be better than this, but sure.”

 

Samol paused. “Don’t cook much nowadays since- Alright. You’re coming back tomorrow to work on things a little more aren’t you? You can stay for dinner, if you’d like.”

 

Fero nodded, his mouth full of food.

 

He stopped by the hardware store after he left Samol’s, getting things organised for his build the next day and leaving the wood piled in his car. Probably he’d have to make a second trip, but these things always took longer to build than they did to break apart. Normally that was something that bothered him about work like this, something that looked quick but absolutely wasn’t, but he didn’t mind having another excuse to see Samol.

 

Fero frowned at the pile of wood in the back of his, and tried very hard not to think about why that was.

  
  
  


Samol kept him company as he worked, reminding him to stop for lunch (another of the universe’s best sandwiches) and then dinner. Normally after a work day like that Fero would have forgone dinner in favour of going home to immediately sleep, but Samol was pretty good company and honestly, Fero’s stomach had kind of been growling for the last hour, as the smell of Samol’s cooking drifted into the yard.

 

“Been a while since I cooked for anything that wasn’t a real special occasion,” said Samol. “I forgot how much the effort can be worth it.”

 

Fero swallowed a large mouthful. “ _ Totally _ worth it.”

 

Samol smiled. “How’s it rate against the sandwich?”

 

Fero hummed. “I think those are still the best in the  _ sandwich _ category, but  _ this _ is the best in the  _ dinner _ category.”

 

Samol huffed a laugh. “Is that so?”

 

“That’s  _ absolutely _ so!” said Fero. He rocked back in his chair as he gestured, wobbling before he grabbed at the table to right himself.

 

Samol put a hand on Fero’s arm, steadying him. “Should have warned you - that chair’s always been a little uneven.”

 

“It’s okay,” said Fero, trying not to focus too much on the warmth of Samol’s hand on him, in case he leant towards it. “I could probably fix it for you, if you want. After the decking, I mean.”

 

Samol let go, waving a hand. “This is an old house, I don’t expect you to fix everything in it. I’m mostly used to everything how it is now anyhow.”

 

“I don’t mind,” said Fero. “I could fix the door too.”

 

“What’s wrong with the door?”

 

“It sticks,” said Fero, “I thought that’s why you keep it open most of the time.”

 

“I don’t, normally,” said Samol, “Not normally much to see out back.”

 

“You don’t have to keep an eye on me you know,” said Fero, “I know what I’m doing.”

 

“I know,” said Samol, “I can tell you do. You get a way about you, when you’re working.”

 

Fero laughed. “Well I told you. I’m a serious guy.”

 

“Oh, absolutely,” said Samol, keeping a straight face for a moment before he laughed.

 

Fero was almost disappointed to run out of reasons to linger in Samol’s warm kitchen after dinner, helping Samol with the dishes and pointing out how the cupboard hinges needed to be replaced, how he could repaint the cupboards too, maybe even the whole kitchen, if Samol wanted.

 

Samol chuckled, squeezing Fero’s shoulder. “Let’s just start with finishing the deck first.”

  
  
  


The deck didn’t take long to finish, really. Fero hung out with Samol, waiting for the varnish to dry between coats, perching on the kitchen counter as he cooked or trailing after him in the garden as Samol puttered around.

 

It was hard to tell exactly how big the yard was, with the cluster of fruit trees along one side and a small greenhouse taking up most of the back corner, weeds and overgrown vines blurring the edges of the garden. The door screeched when Samol pushed it open.

 

“I’ll add that to the list,” said Fero.

 

Samol, as always, waved a hand. “No need. Don’t really come down here much.”

 

“Maybe if the door wasn’t such a pain to get open you would,” said Fero.

 

“I don’t know about that.” Samol paused, looking around room.

 

Fero followed his gaze, over the half-used bags of potting mix and the stack of discarded seedling trays and the slightly-mossy wooden bench. It was all old and in disrepair, sure, but it wouldn’t take much to change it from a disused space into somewhere that Samol could actually use. Maybe then Fero could convince him to get some of those raised garden beds for the yard, so he wouldn’t have to bend over so much.

 

“Stop that,” said Samol.

 

“Stop what?” said Fero, “I’m just thinking.”

 

“I know you are,” said Samol. “You’re a loud thinker when you’re planning.”

 

“I’m just  _ saying _ ,” said Fero, “while I’m here, I could do it.”

 

“I’m sure you could,” said Samol, “but I really only need you to do the deck.”

 

“And the chair,” said Fero, “and the back door, and the kitchen cupboards-”

 

Samol laughed. “Alright, alright. There’s really no need to fix this place up though. Don’t use it enough to bother.”

 

Fero hummed, following Samol back out into the garden.

 

So he didn’t need to. But he did  _ want _ to. Samol was easy to want to help, with his warm laugh when Fero said something that he meant to be a joke and his slow, considering nod when Fero said something that he meant to be serious. It was nice to be able to say whatever came into his head and feel like Samol would understand what he meant by it. Fixing a greenhouse felt like an easy enough repayment.

  
  
  


Fero carefully checked over the chairs before he put them back out on the deck, tightening loose a loose screw here, smoothing a rough patch there.

 

He jumped a little as Samol put a hand on his shoulder. Samol smiled down at him.

 

“Looks good,” said Samol. “Better than new.”

 

“I told you I was great at this,” said Fero.

 

Samol laughed. “I never doubted you were.”

 

Fero grinned, feeling his cheeks flush under Samol’s warm gaze. “Well… good! And I’m going to be just as great at fixing up the stuff inside!”

 

Samol considered him for a moment, huffing a breath. “I suppose there’s no convincing you otherwise, is there?”

 

“Nope!” said Fero cheerfully.

 

“Lunch first,” said Samol, “we can eat on the deck.”

 

“Sure,” said Fero, “I'll just finish up out here.”

 

He waited until he heard the sound of Samol start cooking before he crept down to the greenhouse, peering around in the gloom. 

 

The first part would be clearing the weeds that had sprung up across the floor, and then fixing the rusted shelves, cleaning the plates of glass, maybe even replacing some entirely. Really, the hard part was going to be getting it done without Samol knowing. Or without telling Samol himself. It was far too easy to tell Samol things, but he so  _ wanted  _ this to be a surprise. 

 

Fero flexed his hands for a moment over his tools and got to work. 

  
  
  


The repairs inside the house were smaller but a little more fiddly, and one job easily led into another, despite Samol’s insistence that he was fine using it as it was. Fixing the kitchen chair led him to replacing the cupboard hinges, and since he had other hinges left over in the box he’d bought, he looked around for something to use them on, which led him to the loose drawer in Samol’s bedroom.

 

He tried not to look too closely as Samol’s things while he was there, but it was hard not to, the shelves crowded with family photos and small mementos. Fero paused, going up on his tiptoes to better look at a photos of Samol as a young man, grinning at the camera, a guitar held, loose and comfortable, in his lap.

 

“How’s that drawer coming along?” said Samol from behind him.

 

Fero turned quickly, feeling his cheeks flush. “Ah, it’s- I finished it. I didn’t know you played guitar.”

 

Samol’s lips twitched into a smile, and he stepped inside the room, closer to Fero. “Been a while since I did.” He paused, reached over Fero to pull down the photograph and looking down at it for a moment. “I… Got sick a while ago, and it stopped feeling like there was a point to playing. Guitar’s still around here somewhere, although it’s probably out of tune by now.”

 

Samol had a tight, far-off look on his face. He got that look sometimes, when Fero would ask about fixing something - so unlike his usual warm expression that it made something clench in Fero’s chest.

 

“I could tune it for you,” said Fero, carefully putting a hand on Samol’s arm.

 

That seemed to shake Samol out of it, and he huffed a laugh. “Tune it for me huh? Is there anything you’re not an expert at fixing?”

 

Fero hummed, pretending to consider it. “No, I’m pretty much great at everything.”

 

Samol carefully pulled the guitar case down from on top of the closet. Fero could feel how the guitar was worn smooth in places as he wrapped his hands around it, his movements careful and slow as he tuned it. He perched on the edge of the bed, too focused on the guitar to overthink things.

 

“You probably need to replace the strings,” said Fero, as he handed the guitar to Samol.

 

Samol sat next to him, the guitar held loosely in his hands.

 

“Probably.” Samol paused. “You can play it, if you’d like.”

 

Fero wriggled in his seat, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. “I don’t know how to play. I learnt how to tune instruments because Lem always forgets to keep his instruments in tune, but I don’t… I’m not a musical guy.”

 

Samol considered him for a moment. “I could teach you. If that was something you wanted.”

 

Fero’s hands flexed in the fabric of the sheets next to him, almost brushing against Samol’s thigh. “Yeah, that’d be cool. If you wanted to.”

 

“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have offered,” said Samol, looping the guitar strap over Fero’s shoulders.

 

Fero’s hands fluttered over the guitar, settling where they had before.

 

Samol hummed. “Here.”

 

He reached across Fero’s shoulders, half turning so that the line of his body was close to Fero’s as he positioned Fero’s hands on the guitar.

 

“Like this,” said Samol, softly.

 

Fero nodded, swallowing around his suddenly dry throat before he spoke. “So now what?”

 

He could feel the vibration of Samol’s quiet laugh where their bodies were touching, or maybe he only imagined he could. Or wished he could.

 

Fero inhaled sharply as Samol put his hands over Fero’s, guiding his fingers to the right strings.

 

“Here,” said Samol, voice close and warm.

 

Fero followed his movements, feeling all the more clumsy for the distraction of how close Samol was to him. Samol paused as he finished the scales, and Fero looked up at him, feeling his face heat at how close their faces were.

 

“I should probably head home,” said Fero, unmoving.

 

“Probably,” said Samol, his arms steady around Fero.

 

Fero’s gaze dropped to Samol’s lips, his heart jumping as they quirked into a grin. He turned slightly, trying to get a better angle to lean up to meet him. Samol kept his hands on Fero’s, kissing Fero slowly, deeply, barely pausing for air. Fero twisted more, trying to lean more of his body into Samol’s and Samol released him, giving Fero free rein to climb fully into his lap, the guitar lying forgotten on the bed beside them.

 

Samol chuckled, one hand steady on Fero’s waist and the other running a line up Fero’s back, pressing him close. Fero clutched at Samol’s shirt, his toes curling in his shoes as Samol ran a hand through Fero’s hair.

 

The phone on Samol’s bedside table rang, loud and shrill. Samol and Fero broke apart, breathing heavily.

 

Samol swallowed. “I should get that. Only my sons call the home number nowadays.”

 

Fero nodded. “Right.”

 

Samol leant across him, his hand still on Fero’s hip as he picked up the phone, thumb rubbing small circles around Fero’s hipbone. He shivered, his toes curling again at Samol’s grin.

 

“Hello… Well of course it’s you, who else calls this number? … I was just moving some things around.” Samol rolled his eyes. “I’m not so old that I can’t move the furniture.”

 

Fero slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his laugh. The corners of Samol’s eyes crinkled in response.

 

“Mmhmm… no, everything’s going fine… it’s all done- yes, by Fero… Well, he’s a talented young man, as it turned out, so I didn’t need to do that.”

 

Fero squirmed, not sure what to do with the warmth in Samol’s voice at the mention of him, or the tight feeling in his chest it brought with it.

 

“Maelgwyn was telling me you’ve had quite a week over there,” said Samol. He held the phone away from his mouth, covering the mouthpiece with his hand. “I forgot he normally calls tonight. It’s usually a long call, and you’re welcome to wait, but…”

 

“No, it’s okay,” said Fero, reluctantly sliding down from Samol’s lap. “I mean, I’ll see you tomorrow, so.”

 

Samol nodded and held the phone away from his ear for a moment to press a quick kiss Fero’s cheek. Fero grinned, his skin buzzing with it as he walked back to his car.

 

The taste of Samol lingered in Fero's mouth as he drove home, enough that Fero considered a cold shower before shrugging to himself and climbing under the covers, wriggling out of his clothes. It was late, and Lem would be out even later with Emmanuel. There was no one to be quiet for as he arched under the covers, remembering the weight of Samol’s hands on him, imagining how it would feel to hear Samol’s voice, low in his ear, wanting.

 

He fell asleep still tasting Samol, not sure if it was real or imagined.

  
  
  


Fero arrived the next morning, brandishing new guitar strings. 

 

“So now you can play more, if you want,” said Fero.

 

Samol examined the packet, humming thoughtfully to himself for a moment as Fero got out his tools to fix the slow drip in the laundry sink. 

 

“I would think,” said Samol, “that eventually you’re going to run out of things to fix, even with this old place.”

 

Fero glanced behind him from where he was crouched under the sink. “Nah there’s always more stuff. No offence.”

 

“No taken,” said Samol mildly. 

 

Fero grinned at the shadowed bottom of the sink. He could hear the particular smile in Samol's voice, the one that invited Fero into the joke. 

 

“You know,” said Samol, after a moment, “you don’t need to make excuses to see me.”

 

“I'm not,” said Fero, “this sink really does leak.”

 

Samol hummed again. There was the slight shuffling of his feet as he leant back against the wall. 

 

“And after the sink?” said Samol. 

 

“The bottom part of the bannister's got a chip in it,” said Fero, “and one of the screens on your front window is coming loose.”

 

“And then?”

 

Fero thought of the greenhouse, and it's newly-cleared floor and half re-painted shelves. 

 

“I don't know. Garden stuff, probably.”

 

Samol hummed again. 

 

“You like gardening!” said Fero. 

 

“Of course I do,” said Samol, “it's my garden.”

 

“Yeah, and I'm helping with it!”

 

“You are,” said Samol, the warm tone of his voice stopping Fero's anger in its tracks. 

 

Fero shifted, twisting so he could look up at Samol. “So what's the problem? If I like helping and you like me helping?”

 

Samol huffed a breath. “I'm sure there are other people you could help.”

 

Fero made a face. “But I'd rather help  _ you _ . You're way better company.” He paused. “And it's… whatever, I like it here, I like hanging out with you.”

 

Samol smiled, his shoulders relaxing against the wall. “Rather a fan of it myself.”

 

“Cool,” said Fero. “I think this is done, by the way. So.”

 

Samol pushed himself off the wall, offering Fero a hand up. His hand felt just as warm and solid as it had in Fero's memory, pulling Fero a shade closer than Fero usually allowed himself to be pulled. Samol's hand was still clasped in his between their bodies, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from Samol's skin. 

 

Fero swallowed, looking up at Samol. “Thanks.”

 

Samol brushed Fero's hair back with his free hand and Fero leant into the touch, almost without meaning to. He felt his face flush, his eyes leaving Samol's face until his felt Samol cup his cheek in earnest, tilting his face upwards. 

 

Fero let out a slow breath, leaning up towards Samol, resting a hand tentatively on Samol's chest to kiss him. Samol kissed him back slowly, letting Fero sink into the heat of it. He sighed, letting go of Samol's hand to tangle his hand in Samol's hair. 

 

Samol ran his hands down Fero's body, cupping his ass to pull him closer and eliciting a sharp gasp from Fero. He felt Samol smile against his mouth, feeling a warm-pleased feeling settle in his chest. 

 

They kissed until Fero ran out of breath, leaning back a little to rest his forehead against Samol's shoulder. 

 

“I suppose I should let you get back to work,” said Samol, running an idle hand down Fero's back. 

 

“You don't have to,” Fero mumbled into Samol's shirt. 

 

He felt the rumble of Samol's laughter through his chest. “I've been told that you're very busy. Lots to fix up in this old house, apparently.”

 

Fero swallowed, tilting back to look up at Samol. “Yeah, but I've got time.”

 

Samol huffed a laugh, leaning down to kiss Fero again. 

  
  
  


Fero didn't get much work down that day, trailing Samol into the kitchen and distracting him while he tried to cook something complicated and amazing for dinner, laughing triumphantly as he discovered a wobbly shelf.

 

“See, I have to be in here,” said Fero, tugging at Samol's shirt to pull him closer. “I'm working too.”

 

“That is blatantly untrue,” said Samol.

 

He let himself be pulled towards Fero all the same, smiling against Fero's lips as he bracketed Fero's body against the counter. 

  
  
  


Fero did make a point to get them both out into the garden in the afternoon. He made sure Samol was fully occupied with planting sunflowers in the patch of the garden they’d cleared of weeds a few days before then slipped away, inside the greenhouse. He was almost done, really. He'd found a few mismatched sheets of glass to replace the missing ones, creating a patchwork of blue-green murky light. New seed trays lay out waiting for use under the clear rows of tools in the bright yellow shelves.

 

He just needed to decide what he was going to do with the long bench. It was old, sure, but there was something he liked about its sturdy, moss-covered surface. Maybe he'd make another smaller table, just in case. Something with wheels, maybe…

 

“Fero?” he heard Samol call from outside.

 

“Coming!” said Fero. 

 

He opened the door and walked right into Samol. Samol's hand came down on his shoulder, steadying him. 

 

Samol smiled down at him, and then up at the greenhouse, his eyes widening a little. “I thought I told you not to bother with this?”

 

Fero fidgeted under Samol's hand. “I know, but it wasn't that big of a job, and I just figured, you know, while I'm here, and- okay, so I had this idea about how I was going to get it all done and  _ then  _ bring you down here to show you, because now you can actually  _ use  _ this space again, if you want to, and it has to be better than you hurting your back being over the back table to do stuff, and-”

 

He broke off as Samol squeezed his shoulder. He walked past Fero, a hand trailing over the clear bench, to examine the shelves. 

 

“Good colour,” said Samol. 

 

Fero let out a breath he didn't even realise he'd been holding. “I  _ thought  _ you'd like it!”

 

He stepped towards Samol, their hands next to each other on the bench. Samol turned towards him, putting his hand on top of Fero's. Fero stilled, feeling his cheeks flush under Samol's gaze. 

 

“I do,” said Samol, “thank you, Fero.”

 

He leant down to kiss Fero again. It felt different than before, something gentler about it, Samol's hands tentatively running along Fero's sides before settling at his waist. Fero leant towards him, his fingers clutching at the collar of Samol's shirt. 

 

Unlike before, Samol didn't break apart to give Fero space to breathe, instead he nipped at Fero’s bottom lip, using Fero's sharp gasp to deepen the kiss. Fero went up on his tiptoes, wanting to be closer, wanting to press more of his body against Samol. 

 

It seemed Samol was of the same mind. Samol hummed into Fero’s mouth, thoughtful, before his hands tightened on Fero's waist, pulling him up onto the bench. Fero laughed, sliding his legs either side of Samol's hips and pulling him closer. He rocked against Samol, heat pooling low in his belly as he felt Samol harden against him.

 

Samol broke off their kiss, looking down at Fero. He hummed again, letting a hand trail down Fero's chest. Fero felt pinned under his dark gaze, shivering a little as Samol's hand reached the button of Fero's jeans. 

 

“Been a minute since I last did this,” said Samol, his voice rough. 

 

Fero squirmed, his whole body tilted towards Samol, wanting. He reached up, tugging at the front of Samol's shirt. 

 

“Here, I'll help remind you, it's like this.”

 

He pulled Samol down, meaning to direct things but getting swept away in the kiss until he felt Samol slide the zipper down, tugging at the waist of his jeans. 

 

Fero gasped into Samol's mouth, arching his hips to let Samol pull his jeans and underwear off. He whined as Samol ran his fingers over him, shifting his hips to encourage Samol's touch. 

 

Samol chuckled - a rich, deep noise that curled in the pit of Fero’s stomach. Fero bit his lip, quieting another whine. Samol paused, trailing his fingers over Fero lightly as he bent close to Fero’s ear.

 

“Oh no, Fero, don’t go getting quiet on me now. You know I don’t mind when you make a bit of noise.”

 

If Fero had been in a state of mind to be thoughtful, he probably would have connected the tight warmth in his chest to Samol’s words, how Samol never minded that he was, generally, loud, that Samol seemed even to  _ like _ that about him. As it was, gasping and arching towards Samol’s touch, he clumsily pulled at Samol’s shirt collar, tugging him in for a kiss.

 

Samol cupped the back of Fero’s head, keeping him in place as he finally,  _ finally _ , sunk a finger into Fero, aching slow. Fero groaned, purposely loud this time. He felt the puff of air across his lips as Samol broke off to laugh.

 

“There you go,” said Samol.

 

Fero opened his mouth to reply, his words lost to a groan as Samol added another finger. Fero flopped back onto his elbows, his fingers digging in the moss covering the bench, his breathing ragged. He dropped his head back, his gaze unfocused on the murky glass above him, lifting his hips as much as Samol would allow to fuck himself onto Samol’s fingers.

 

Just as he felt himself getting closer to the edge, Samol’s hand slowed. Fero whined, looking down the length of his body at Samol.

 

“For someone with such an interest in plants, “ said Samol, “you don’t have much patience.”

 

“I’ve been coming over for a while,” Fero managed, “I’ve  _ been _ patient.”

 

Samol raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?”

 

He crooked his fingers, deliberately brushing Fero’s clit. Fero gasped, his hips snapping up towards Samol’s hand, chasing the feeling.

 

“I- Yeah,” said Fero, “I’m- wait, you  _ haven’t _ ?”

 

Samol smiled. “I’m a little more experienced in patience than you.”

 

Fero’s eyes travelled down Samol’s body, his gaze lingering on the bulge in Samol’s pants before travelling back up to Samol’s face.

 

“You don’t  _ have _ to be though,” said Fero. “Why bother with patience, when you can have the thing you want right now?”

 

Samol considered him, a smile lingering in the corners of his mouth. “I can have the thing I want, huh? Well.”

 

He paused, his fingers moving slowly again, just shy of where Fero wanted them.

 

“I want a lot of things in the time I got left. I already got the nice house, and happiness for my sons, and a grandson of whom I proud. I got a garden that’s almost back to the way I like it.”

 

Fero willed himself to meet Samol’s eyes. “And?”

 

Samol laughed. “And I got a young man, who pestered me into repairing my house and to get out in the garden again, and who won’t leave me alone unless he knows I’m eating lunch too, and who made me get my guitar back out for the first time in a long time.”

 

“You would have done all that without me,” said Fero.

 

“Maybe,” said Samol, “but maybe not.”

 

He leant down, kissing Fero again deeply. Fero felt Samol against him, wriggling a hand between them to palm Samol through his pants and grinning, triumphant, at Samol’s low groan.

 

“Patience,” said Fero, “is  _ extremely _ overrated if you ask me.”

 

He ran the heel of his palm over Samol again, revelling at the way Samol shuddered against him.

 

“Might be coming around to your way of thinking,” said Samol.

 

Fero grinned, pressing a quick kiss to Samol’s lips before he pushed himself up to use both hands to free Samol from his pants. Samol slid a hand under Fero’s chin, tilting his face up towards him and kissing him, distracting Fero enough that he barely noticed Samol was bare against him until Samol was pressing tentatively at his entrance.

 

Fero gasped, pressing his heels into Samol’s ass to encourage him forward. Samol huffed a laugh, kissing Fero again before pressing in slowly.

 

Fero shuddered. The stretch of him was more than Samol’s fingers had been, and despite Fero’s impatience he was almost grateful for Samol’s steadiness. Another part of him though, the louder, more insistent part, ached for more, squirming a little.

 

Samol paused. “Too much?”

 

Fero shook his head. “ _ Never _ .”

 

Samol bent to kiss him as he bottomed out, giving Fero a moment to adjust before he began to move his hips. Fero groaned, the heat pooling in gut with every thrust. Samol pressed their foreheads together as they broke apart for breath, his hands steady at Fero’s waist.

 

Fero could feel himself be brought back to the edge quickly, twisting his hands in Samol’s shirt to try and hold himself off.

 

“I’m- I-” Fero gasped.

 

“Take whatever you need,” said Samol, his voice ragged.

 

Fero barely had time to touch himself before he was coming, the waves of heat breaking inside of him. He felt Samol still, Samol’s hands guiding him to relax back on the bench. Samol kissed him, softly and a little unsteadily.

 

Fero felt Samol twitch inside him. He pressed his lips together, feeling a little oversensitive and deciding to lean into it.

 

“You can, uh…” Fero took a breath. “I mean, don’t let me stop you.”

 

Samol leant one arm on the bench next to Fero, looking over him. “You could, you know.”

 

“I know,” said Fero, “but I don’t want to.”

 

Samol began to move again, slowly at first and then faster, falling out of rhythm. Fero shuddered, giving himself over to the pleasure-pain of it. He pushed himself up, not so much kissing Samol as allowing them to breathe the same air as their gasped against each other mouths, feeling Samol spill into him. Fero arched into it, catching just the right angle once, twice, before he shuddered again, pressing his face into the crook of Samol’s neck to muffle his moan.

 

They lay together against the bench for a moment, their ragged breaths echoing against the glass. Fero wriggled, pressing a light kiss to Samol’s neck before his tilted to capture Samol’s lips. It was less desperate than before, but not lacking in warmth. He felt Samol smile against his lips. Fero broke off the kiss, blinking up at Samol for a moment.

 

“So,” said Fero, “I guess this means you really  _ do _ like the greenhouse huh?”

 

Samol laughed. “I really do.” He paused. “Can’t spend all day in it though.”

 

Fero nodded, keeping his face serious. “I understand, you’re not a young man anymore.”

 

Samol laughed again and Fero grinned, feeling the warmth of Samol’s laughter settle in his chest.

 

“I’m not so old yet that I can’t keep up with  _ you _ ,” said Samol, “and I believe there was talk today of finishing up the vegetable garden. We’ll want to do that before it gets too dark.”

 

“Alright, alright,” said Fero, but he couldn’t quite chase the grin off his face. “We’ll do it your way.”

 

“The vegetable garden was your idea,” said Samol, “if anything, I’m doing this  _ your  _ way.”

 

“But it’s  _ your  _ vegetable garden,” said Fero.

 

Samol smiled, pressing a kiss to Fero’s forehead. “Guess that makes it  _ our _ way then, huh?”

 

Fero felt the warmth in his chest bubble over into laughter. “I guess so.”

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


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